Softly, Softly
by thestubb
Summary: Pietro holds on for just a moment longer. Age of Ultron Spoilers. Little AU. Minor language.


**Welp.**

 **That movie destroyed me.**

 **So this isn't a ridiculous AU-I just love the twins so much I wanted to give them one last moment together. So I made this. Hope you enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: if I owned Avengers, Pietro would still be alive, dammit.**

OoOoO

There is black and then a flash of light, a crack of blurry images and hard concrete.

"Just a second-"

A second. A blink of an eye. A flash.

A flash of blue.

Pietro feels the strange urge to laugh as something wet and red bubbles up between his teeth, his lungs convulsing as they slowly fill with liquid. He's not sure why he's laughing-except that now he feels agony ripple across his torso and he clenches his teeth, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Strong, firm hands claw at him, turning his decimated body over as quickly as carefulness will allow.

"Ah, shit. C'mon, kid-"

He feels a vague wave of irritation, and almost cracks open an eye to glare at the speaker (damn the old man). He's not a kid, he's almost 19-he's a mutant-he's-

He's dying.

"Shit shit shit. Ah, shit. Cap, radio Doctor Cho-shit. This is bad-"

Pietro's fuzzy mind is momentarily confused. What is bad? Why is the old man cursing? Why does Pietro's body feel cold and hot and agonized and numb?

Where is Wanda?

He dimly registers screaming, a pain so great it rips at his heart and threatens to send him into an abyss. Why is his sister screaming? Who hurt his little _myshka_? He struggles to rise, to help her, to save her, and feels his weak legs twitch and refuse to lift him. Then he remembers-it's his fault.

He hears her babbling at him, nonsense

and commands and appeals. He hears the big red and blue man attempt to calm her down, feels his impossibly strong arms gather him to his chest and run.

"Hold on, kid. Just hold on-"

He will hold on-he will wait-he will listen to Wanda's pleading and wait for just one more second.

One more flash.

OoOoO

He realizes he blacked out when he's jerked back from the black clouding the edges of his visions by his head jarring as it's set upon the ground, sending pain shooting through his wounds. He realizes something is attatched to his arm and hooked to a tube, material wadded upon the worst of his many injuries (Wanda's going to kill him) (He'll just have to walk it off). His throat seizes and he chokes, a weak gasp escaping his mouth. The Captain apologizes gravely and attempts to situate him comfortably-as comfortable he can make a dying child.

His sight flickers, drowsiness seizing his eyelids and pulling them downwards. Blood coats his tongue, tinging it with the taste of copper and rust.

"Wake up, kid," the old man says. Pietro's eyes crack open in response, a lazy, bloody smirk touching his lips even though it probably takes half of his remaining, quickly draining strength.

"Shut up."

The archer's gaze is grave as he says, "Your sister's almost here. Just keep your eyes open, okay?" Pietro gradually realizes he's really close-a hovering warmth just beyond Pietro's reach that provides a surprising bit of comfort amidst the destruction raging about them.

Something explodes and the inhabitants of the boat scream, clutching at the rocking metal. Pietro's ears ring at the harsh sound, a tinny whine in his ears and a pounding in his head. He grimaces and sees red.

Red-

Strawberries-

Fire-

Bombs-

Flashes-

Hair.

 _Wanda_.

"Kid?!" Hawkeye carefully smacks his hand. "Keep your eyes open. Come on. Just hold on-"

Wanda-Wanda-Wanda-blistering, bursting visions of his perfect sister flash before his eyes before it fades into black.

Pietro realizes as he slips away that he will probably not be able to say goodbye to his sister, so he breathes a silent goodbye and hopes she'll understand he tried his hardest.

"Ki-!"

She's going to kill him.

OoOoO

"-etro?"

He feels warm hands patting his face, smoothing his hair, touching his skin. Something wet drips on his cheek, and his eyes flutter open to see everything he ever wanted staring down at him.

She's blurry, and disheveled and dirty, but she's here.

Something in his chest buckles and tears of relief drip from his eyes as she presses a kiss to his knuckles.

"Oh, _brata_ , oh, Pietro," Wanda sobs, twining her fingers in his hair and smearing away the tears that drip down her cheeks, even as she tries to quip, "What did you do?"

Pietro lets out a shaky gasp of a chuckle, breath hitching as it moves his chest. "I...I-I-"

"Shh," she tells him, laying a finger on his lips and clutching his hand. "Don't-don't speak. Just hush, da?"

He heaves for breath, air in his lungs somehow growing even more thin, their capacity even smaller. " _Myshka_ -"

"Shh," she says again, sterner this time.

He manages a little smile, fingers flicking to touch hers. "You can't tell me what to do. I'm 12 minutes older."

She laughs, and the golden sound turns into soft sobs and a crumpled face, red lips sweaty and dirty now streaked by tears. He hushes her, rubs his thumb on her hand.

Her head tips forward to rest on his chest, cheek on his shirt and red hair splayed. He smiles, feels a pull, and raises a shaking hand to rest on her head, fingers infinetisimally playing with her crimson strands.

He doesn't want her to cry-he can't leave her crying. So instead, he simply whispers, "Spokoynoy _nochi, Myshka_."

 _"Spokoynoy nochi_ ," she sobs back.

Her fingers creep to reach his cold hands, and he dies with a smile touching his face.

OoOoO

 **That's it. Hope you liked it.**

 _Myshka: little mouse_

 _Brata: brother_

 _Da: yes_

 _Spokoynoy nochi: Good night_


End file.
